


after all the things we've been through

by finkzydrate



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Heartbreak, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 07:16:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkzydrate/pseuds/finkzydrate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco calls Mario after he finds out about the news of his transfer to Bayern. Angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. they don't know about me and you

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read about the news, let me enlighten you - Mario Gotze is leaving BVB in July. In other words, my heart is literally bleeding all over the place right now, it's so broken that I can't take it. So this happened. Excuse all my mistakes, I have no beta and English is not my mother tongue, plus I was super upset while writing it.

Marco dials Mario's number as soon as he finds out about his transfer. His heart is beating erratically in his chest and he feels like throwing up. Mario picks up after the third ring.

"Marco," he sounds nervous, like a deer caught in the headlights. _He better feel bad about this_ , Marco thinks, heartbroken.

"So I had to find out about you leaving from the Internet of _all_ places?" Marco tries not to sound too bitter, but he can't help it. His voice betrays his feelings so completely that he feels like Mario could see him though the phone.

"I was going to tell you, I swear. I was just...scared. Terrified of your reaction," Mario is sure he's just a second away from crying like a baby.

"You know what, I'm not blaming you for leaving. You're young, ambitious, it's okay. I just don't get why you're going to Bayern. _Bayern_ , Mario, that's the absolute worst club you could have chosen. That's like saying a huge fuck you to every Dortmund fan," Marco pauses to take a breath, hesitates whether he should continue or not because he knows that Mario is feeling terrible and he's only making things worse. He inhales-exhales, counts to five and thinks to himself, _fuck it, he deserves that_ and continues, "I thought you said you were happy. You promised me, Mario, you promised you wouldn't leave the club, the fans. Me."

The last word, Marco mutters quietly, not wanting to sound as heartbroken as he feels, but Mario catches it anyway. He is convinced at that very moment that he's the worst person on the planet for making Marco sound so absolutely hurt.

"I'm sorry, okay? I-I love you, but I have to leave before it's too late."

"Too late for _what_? You're not making any sense."

"I don't know, I'm still young, I want trophies. I want to make history, I want people to know my name and remember me years from now. It's my time now. Dortmund is my home, but I feel like I'm drowning there, I feel like I'm suffocating from all the expectations," Mario buries his hand in his hair, messing it up terribly. He knows Marco gets him, but he's sure that in this moment, he will refuse to accept whatever Mario says to him. 

Marco sighs. He doesn't answer him for some moments and the line gets so quiet that Mario thinks that Marco has hung up on him and probably never wants to see his face again.

"I thought we were good together. On the pitch. The best midfield duo in the world, huh? The new Xavi and Iniesta. Bullshit," Marco spits out, anger bubbling in his chest and threatening to escape. 

"I'm sorry. I'm not saying that you should be okay with it, I just hoped you could try to understand."

"No, Mario, I'm _trying_ to understand, but I can't. I'm sorry, too. I only wish you knew that you weren't breaking my heart only with this decision," Marco says finally and without waiting for a reply, he hangs up. 

Mario closes his eyes, fighting the urge to call Marco again and beg him for forgiveness. He knows it's probably too late for that anyways.


	2. i'm not yours to keep forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sequel to after all the things we've been through. Marco doesn't know how to, but with a help of some friends, manages to swallow his pride and make up with Mario.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I didn't think I'd write a sequel, but it had to happen. I was obsessing over ideas all day because I am a sucker for a happy ending and this definitely made me feel a tiny bit better. I will just pretend this is really going to happen.

After that phone call, Marco doesn't speak to Mario for a week. He makes sure to ignore him at practice, pretends he doesn't see all the times Mario's called and texted him since then and builds a safe, Mario-less cocoon in which he can lie to himself that the love of his life isn't leaving him. It's not easy, though. He never looks straight at Mario throughout practice, but he knows that the younger boy is sending him hurt looks, his eyes always glued to his back or his head. Their teammates know that things between them are not okay, even Kloppo knows and nobody pressures them to work it out or spend time stretching together or practicing together because what's the point anyway? They lost the league and are on their way of losing the Champions League too because of the entire transfer drama. Marco sometimes wonders if that's how it's meant to be - he found his best friend, his lover and his other football half, but he got to spend just one year with him. Isn't that ironic? _Things always fall apart when you get too comfortable, too happy_ , he thinks to himself.

"Hey, Marco, wait up," he barely registers the voice that's yelling somewhere behind him, but he knows it's not Mario's, so he stops and waits. Nuri is jogging towards him and Marco instantly wonders what the other guy would want from him. "How are you?" He asks once they start walking together in the direction of the dressing room.

"Um, I'm fine, I guess? Why the sudden interest in my well-being, Nuri?" Marco answers confused, his brows furrowed. Nuri opens his mouth, then closes it again, obviously not sure what to say to Marco, who's waiting not so patiently for his teammate to finally speak his mind.

"Okay, I'll just be straight with you. I talked to Mario and I know stuff is tense between you, but give him a chance, man. You only get so many months with him and then he'll be gone and you'll regret leaving things unresolved between the two of you," Marco would have gotten angry if not for Nuri's sincere words and earnest look. He's right, Marco knows, but he's too proud and stubborn, not to mention hurt, to talk to Mario. He knows that when June comes, they'll be pretty much done but he doesn't know if he's ready to make amends just yet.

"You're right, but you have no idea how much he hurt me. I don't know how to forgive him."

He sees Nuri's disappointment clearly in his eyes, but he doesn't want to have this conversation anymore so he shrugs and before his teammate has the chance to say anything more, he turns around and walks inside the dressing room.

***

He gets piss drunk one night. Robert asks him if he wants to go out for a drink after practice and he gladly agrees. Marco hopes he'd get wasted and have his first night of good sleep in weeks. 

What actually happens is this: Robert takes him to this bar, they talk, have some fun for a while. They both drink a couple of beers, then Marco decides that it is a terrific idea to switch to whiskey and after that he remembers drowning numerous shots of tequila. 

"I just really, _really_ miss him, Lewy, you know?" Marco groans, close to tears. He rests his forehead on his palms and looks at Robert, who is almost as wasted as Marco. "But he betrayed me, betrayed _us_ ," he waves one finger in the air to emphasize on the "us" and all Robert can do is nod, trying really hard to listen to his friend, but gets distracted by everything around him. 

"Dude, just talk to him or whatever. You can't be mad at him forever, right?" He tries to encourage him, but Marco grimaces and says _naah, no way_. "I got a brilliant idea of how to make you feel better, man," Robert says suddenly. He throws some bills on the table and gestures for Marco to follow him.

They walk for a little while, but Marco starts to get impatient and asks questions about where they're going and how long do they have to walk because he really needs to pee. Robert doesn't tell him, just promises it would be worth the long walk.

As drunk as he is, Marco knows that he should've expected it. They end up in front of Mario's door and Robert tries very hard to make him suck it up and just ring the damn bell, then kiss and make up. Marco's vocabulary seems to have been cut down to the word "no" only, though, because that's the only thing he's saying. He stands awkwardly by the door, not daring to touch the door-bell. Robert sighs and rings it for him. Of course Marco starts freaking out, repeats that Mario hates him and they shouldn't be there, but then suddenly the door opens and a very sleepy and tousled Mario is standing in the doorway and Marco doesn't remember how to speak anymore. 

"Oh, hii, Mario," Robert sounds almost surprised to see Mario standing in front of them.

"What are you doing here, guys? It's almost 4 in the morning," the youngest of the three states, looking confused between the two figures leaning on both sides of the door, looking like they're about to collapse. 

"I just brought you a present," Robert says and pushes Marco gently towards Mario, making sure that the younger one understands what his present is exactly. "I'll leave you to it now, bye." Robert waves at them and starts walking home.

Mario takes Marco's hand, after watching Lewy disappear from sight, and drags him gently inside the house, "Come on, let's get you inside. Oh God, you stink of alcohol."

Marco tries to untie the laces of his shoes, but doesn't manage, loses his balance and falls on his ass on the floor. Mario is hovering over him, making sure he's okay, when he hears Marco speaking to him for the first time in almost two weeks, "I can't believe I lost you."

Mario feels like he's been punched in the gut. The twirl of emotions in Marco's eyes cannot be described with words, but deep down - he gets it. He gets every single feeling going through the blond because ever since the team found out about his future departure, he's been feeling the exact same way. Mario sits down in front of the older man, takes Marco's hand in his, removes it from the laces of his sneaker and takes his shoes off, one by one. Then he looks at him and it strikes him, suddenly, that he doesn't want to leave this man behind. He doesn't want to lose what they have. He selfishly wants to keep Marco to himself, but he knows he's not Mario's to keep anymore.

"You haven't lost me," he mutters, looking right in Marco's eyes. "I'm still here, we still train together, we still have each other." He squeezes Marco's hand to show him that he really is there at this very moment. 

"Yes, okay, not yet at least. But in a couple of months I will have. Bayern Munich is bigger and better than Borussia Dortmund, I know. I just hoped I had given you enough reasons to stay."

Mario doesn't know what to answer him, honestly. He's dumb-struck because he knows Marco's right, he's got plenty of reasons to stay, but he can't say it out loud and he certainly can't go back now. 

"I'll visit you and the boys. It'll be just like I never left - I'll still be a pain in the ass, I promise," he goes for a reassuring smile, but it never reaches his eyes.

"I'm sorry I was so unfair to you. I was angry and hurt and betrayed, I was selfish. Only thinking of myself."

"You've never been unfair to me, Marco. You were just being honest and I respect that."

They sit on the cold linoleum floor for a few minutes, just reveling in the time they are getting to spend together, looking at each other like they haven't seen one another before. Their hands are still entangled and Mario uses this to pull Marco gently off the floor and on his feet.

"Come on, let's get you to bed. I'll get you a glass of water first or you'll have a terrible hangover tomorrow."

When Mario comes back from the kitchen, carrying a glass of water and an aspirin, he sees Marco laying on his side, his hands curled around his torso, his eyes closed peacefully. He doesn't have the heart to wake him up, so he just climbs in bed next to him, tosses one hand possessively over his waist and holds him as close to his body as physically possible.

***

The first thing Marco registers when he wakes up is that he has a headache and that he's not in his own bed. He panics, but the memories from last night flood his mind slowly and he calms down, knowing that this is Mario's bed he's in. However, Mario's side is cold and Marco decides to brush his teeth and see how terrible exactly he looks before he goes to look for him. 

It turns out, Mario is in the kitchen. He's making pancakes and listening to the radio, mumbling softly the words to the song currently playing. Marco drinks the sight of Mario cooking breakfast in the kitchen that's flooded with sunlight in and smiles to himself before he makes his way toward the boy and hugs him from behind, hands resting on his clothed belly. 

"Good morning," he says in Mario's ear and leaves a simple chaste kiss on his temple. Mario shudders and thinks to himself how much he's missed Marco's presence in his life. 

"Good morning to you, too," he turns around in Marco's arms and looks up at him expectantly, biting his lip softly. Marco takes the hint, leans in, but pauses briefly, his hand sneaking in to cup Mario's cheek. Their noses are bumping lightly and Marco's literally breathing in the air that Mario's breathing out but he's still teasing the younger boy, not leaning in for the kiss completely. Mario loses it, eventually, and closes the gap between them with no hesitation. The kiss is like their first one - a bit awkward at first, but heated and growing more and more confident with every smooth slide of their tongues.

"The pancakes will get burnt," Mario sighs against Marco's lips, eyes still closed. He doesn't want to let go, this is the most peaceful moment he's had in weeks and he's so relieved that Marco seems to have forgiven him and wants them to be together.

"I don't really care about breakfast right now," Marco clings to the younger boy, as if he had heard his thoughts and was on the exact same page as him. Mario knows that they _are_ on the same page now, just as they had been a couple of weeks or a couple of months ago, or all the times when they have passed the ball between them and have scored an amazing goal together. It's all bound to break in a few months, they both know that, but Mario is content with just being in Marco's arms now and enjoying whatever time they have left before he has to face his future and leave Marco in the past.


End file.
